


A Case Study in Red Birds

by jaybird_elliott2020



Series: Jane Austen Quotes [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Confessions, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Jason Todd Has Feelings, Jason is a Dork, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, References to Jane Austen, Talking, Tender Sex, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybird_elliott2020/pseuds/jaybird_elliott2020
Summary: Tim thought he had been the only one studying, but, as it turned out, Jason had too.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Jane Austen Quotes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877863
Comments: 8
Kudos: 211





	A Case Study in Red Birds

_“There is no charm equal to the tenderness of heart._ ” –Jane Austen

In Gotham, it always feels like it’s raining. Or about to rain. Or coming out of rain.

Jason always loved the city for that. There was a film of gray that blocked out all the sharp outlines of the buildings, of the people who wanted to hurt you, and it soften them. You could only see the lights in the city when it rained.

Today, Jason is laying on his back on a rooftop, his armor laying deflated by his side along with his helmet. He still has his mask on and his undershirt and cargo pants, but he’s taken his boots off and ditched the gun holsters and jacket too. It’s pouring and he’s soaking wet.

“Are you ok?” Dick asks. Jason heard him land on the roof a little bit ago. Usually on rainy days the Bats stick close together but Jason is known for going off on his own.

“M’ fine,” Jason mumbles. He doesn’t even open his eyes. He’s letting the rain wash away that sticky feeling on his face he gets when he wears his mask too long.

“Leave him alone, Dick,” Tim sighs. Jason thinks he’s probably sitting on the ledge, looking out over the horizon like Jason had been an hour ago. “He wants to be alone.”

But he doesn’t really. Not right now. That’s why he’s laying in the rain.

“Yeah Dick,” Jason chuckles anyway. “Leave me alone.”

There isn’t any more said. Jason listens to Dick rocking back and forth on his feet, like he’s trying to figure out how to fill the silence. Then, his soft footsteps suddenly get quick and disappear. He’s leapt off the building. Jason thinks maybe O called something in over the comms. (He wouldn’t know for sure because his comms were in his helmet.)

Jason cracks his eyes and shields them from the rain with his hand so he can see a bit better. On the ledge of the roof, Tim is sitting still and swinging his legs. _He_ hasn’t left.

“Damian got in a fight in the Bowery,” Tim explains when he feels Jason’s gaze on his back.

“Oh?” Jason replies, laying back down and closing his eyes again.

“Broke some robber’s nose. Bruce is mad and Dick went to go settle them,” Tim continues. “Do you want me to leave?”

Jason shakes his head. Tim’s back is turned, but he knows what silence means between them.

“Are you cold?” Tim asks.

“Little. Feels good though.”

“Can I lay with you?”

Jason nods. Again, Tim knows what silence means between them.

Tim turns and hops off the ledge, walking with heavy feet to where Jason is on the roof. He’s making sure Jason can hear him. He goes out of his way to drop his cape and cowl hard against the concrete. It eases something in Jason, he hadn’t even known was tensing.

A warm presence fills the space to his left. He can hear the scraping of his helmet and shuffle of his jacket. Tim is wadding up his jacket and using it as a pillow. He’s purposefully putting a few inches of space between them, close enough Jason knows he’s there, but far enough they aren’t touching. Jason wants to touch Tim.

“Sometimes I worry about you,” Tim admits after he settles in. Jason knows he hasn’t closed his eyes. He never does.

“I worry about you too,” Jason says. It’s like their own secret code, something only they understand.

“No,” Tim says. His voice sounds frustrated. Jason turns his head and cracks one eye to find Tim staring at him. “That’s … that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” There’s a brief pause. “What did you mean?”

Tim huffs and sits up. He shakes his head. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

Jason doesn’t press. He closes his eyes once more.

Tim watches him closely.

Jason’s got these deep-set dark, blue eyes. It looks like he has two permeant black eyes the way the shadows fall on him and the circles he gets from sleeping less than Tim does. His cheeks are sharp and hallow all at once, drizzled with freckles that seem to be magnified by the streetlight and the rain. His shirt is drenched and clinging tight enough to his torso Tim can make out the outline of some bandages on his chest and lower abdomen. There is so much about Jason that should scream tranquil at the moment but Tim can only focus on the things that remind him why they’re there to begin with.

“Will you come to my place?” Jason asks suddenly. Tim is taken slightly aback. Jason usually doesn’t invite Tim over. They hang out at Tim’s safehouse or occasionally the cave. It’s one of those unspoken rules that they don’t wander into Jason’s places (even if Tim knows where each and every one of them are).

“Yeah, sure,” Tim says. “Now?”

“Help me up, I’ve got a knot in my back,” Jason replies. He holds his arm up and waits.

Tim stands and locks their hands together, leveraging Jason upright. Standing, Jason is seven inches taller than Tim and he’s not even wearing his boots (Tim is). He’s twice the width (and probably weight too) of Tim and looks like he could crush anything in his path with ease. The funny thing is though, Tim doesn’t feel afraid. He’s never felt afraid of Jason, even when he pointed guns at his head or stabbed him. Because he’s seen how Jason uses just his pointer finger to pet the alley cats, scratching each of them right where he knows they like. Because he knows those cats like him because he leaves tuna cans out wherever he goes. Because he holds the hands of kids who get separated from their parents late at night in Crime Alley and talks to them gently, takes off his hood and gives them lollipops. Because he sometimes sits across the street from his mother’s grave and prays. Because he still goes to the only Catholic church in Gotham on the anniversary of his death and lights candles for anyone he can think of. Because, even now, he’s trying to make himself smaller, less intimidating, so Tim feels at ease.

“I’ll race you?” Jason laughs before taking off to the edge of the roof and diving off without even a beat of fear. Tim likes that too.

“Hey!” Tim calls after him, running. “That’s cheating!” But Tim’s got his bike queued up in the alley and he’s put new booster in it that’ll at least even the playing field.

Jason is taking off as Tim mounts his bike. Tim is quick to follow.

They’re riding side-by-side and Jason keeps glancing over and smirking like he’s winning, when neither of them are really. Tim can tell Jason’s pulling back a little, probably because he feels bad about calling a race and going on ahead before Tim could catch up. Tim thinks that’s funny, because they both know Tim’s pulling too because he wants Jason to win. Because when Jason wins, he gets the prize.

They screech to a halt in front of one of Gotham’s nicer apartment complexes. Not necessarily bougie, Tim would say, but definitely not where he expected Jason to have a place.

“Ok,” Tim pants a little. He had been holding a breath for most of the race without even realizing it. “You win.”

“I know I do,” Jason chuckles. He dismounts and walks over to where Tim is kicking out the stand on his bike. When Tim gets off, Jason is wrapping his arm tightly around his waist. Tim’s breath stutters. “Hold on,” is all that warning he gets before they’re flying into the air to a fifth floor fire escape/makeshift balcony.

Jason disengages the security on the window with a thumbprint and pushes it open. He waves Tim in first.

Once in, Tim suddenly feels nervous.

The apartment is a studio with a little kitchenette and two small doors (one of which Tim assumes leads to the bathroom). Along all the walls are endless arrays of books. Old books, new books, library books, textbooks. Every one of them looks like it’s been worn thin along the spin, some more so than others. If Tim wanders closer he’s sure he’ll find the row of books that have cracks along the spine and frayed corners are the section dedicated to Jane Austen novels. Tim knows for a fact that Jason can quote _Sense and Sensibility_ off the top of his head.

This isn’t a safehouse. This is Jason’s _home_.

“I need a shower,” Jason says, mostly to himself. He turns to Tim and smiles. “There might be something in the fridge to drink. If there’s food, don’t eat it. I haven’t been here in a while and I don’t know if any of it’s any good.”

Tim nods and Jason disappears behind one of the doors. Tim makes a note that that’s the bathroom (not that he’s entirely sure he’ll need the knowledge for a later date, he’s pretty steady in the thought that this is a one off, and nothing else).

The kitchen is suspiciously neat. Tim knows that Jason is a clean person—cleaner than he is at least—but Jason also said that he hadn’t been here in a while. There should be dust or smelly garbage like at the places _Tim_ hasn’t been to in a while. There isn’t. There’s a fresh bag in garbage can and all the counters are wiped clean. Even the coffee maker isn’t stained. Tim can’t remember the last coffee machine he owned for longer than a month that didn’t turn some shade of brown.

The fridge is pretty empty though. There’s a couple Gatorades and waters but no beers or soda (which Jason drinks a lot of). There’s a piece of cake on a plate and a few bags of deli meat. Tim doesn’t have to open the bags to know they’re all sweet ham because whenever Jason comes over that’s what they eat together. Sweet ham sandwiches with mustard and pickles. The cake is from Alfred’s birthday about a month ago. The whole family had come over to celebrate, but Jason left early because he and Bruce got into an argument. Alfred sent him home with a plate of cake, but Tim guesses he never got around to eating it.

The freezer is a bit better stocked. Breakfast burritos. Hot pockets. Ice cream sandwiches. Some frozen meat. Obviously, Jason liked to have this place ready for him when he had time to come back.

Tim takes out an ice cream sandwich and unwraps it. He throws the trash in the bin and walks over to Jason’s bed. He gets comfortable, his back against a pillow against the wall and turns on the TV.

A few minutes later, while Tim is licking the dip between his thumb and pointer finger, Jason emerges from the bathroom with steam wafting off of him.

His hair is wet and curly. His clothes are under his arm and he’s holding a towel around his waist. He walks over to the bed, tossing the clothes over it to the hamper on the other side. Once he’s done, he tucks the towel tight against his waist so he can riffle through the dresser where the TV is sitting. He blocks Tim’s view, but Tim doesn’t even notice. Jason is pulling a shirt and underwear. He sets them on the top of the dresser and drops his towel.

His back is turned to Tim, so he can’t see anything. His butt is stark white and plump and Tim thinks about how it clenches when they fuck and how Jason pants softly in his ear and pulls his hair and bites his shoulder when he cums.

Jason pulls his underwear on and Tim snaps out of his daydream, clearing his throat. Jason turns and pulls his shirt over his head, smirking at Tim on the bed. He saunters up to the end and slowly climbs up until he’s in Tim’s lap. He’s heavy, even though his whole weight isn’t pressing down on Tim’s legs.

With a steady, gentle hand, Jason is brushing Tim’s cold, damp hair off his forehead.

“I thought you might join me,” he admits.

Tim smiles. “I would’ve if you’d asked.”

Jason rolls his eyes and leans back so his hands are supporting behind him and his legs are stretched out and curling behind Tim’s back.

“What are we watching?” Jason asks. He tilts his head upside down in such a ridiculous way that Tim can’t help but giggle a little bit. Jason pays him no mind, waiting for an answer.

“Office,” Tim replies.

“Oh, I see, that mean we can’t fuck?”

It’s a joke. Tim had once scolded Jason for trying to give him a hickey during a particularly deep binge of _The Office_.

“As long as you don’t distract me,” Tim teases. He moves his legs from under Jason’s so they’re laying on top of his thighs. He slides his hands under both his pants and underwear’s waistbands, shimmying them down and off.

“Shirt too, Babybird?” Jason asks.

Tim reaches behind his neck and undoes the catches of the suit. He moves his hand again below his armpit where the zipper compartment has opened and he unzips. Before he can pull his arm out and get the top over his head, Jason is leaning forward and swallowing his dick whole.

Tim shudders. He whines and collapses into the wall again, his head banging a little harder than he thought it would. Jason doesn’t let up. He feels Tim’s dick hardening in his mouth. He _won’t_ let up. Tim is struggling to regain himself and slip out of the suit fully, but it takes a minute.

When he’s finally naked he can claw at Jason’s shoulders and let himself fall into a fit of moans. Jason only presses harder into him until his nose is tight against his happy trail and he can _feel_ his breath on his lower belly. After holding himself there for a moment, Jason pops off with a gasp.

“Distracted?” Jason chuckles, kissing up Tim’s bare torso. Once he gets to Tim’s lips, they’re both too gone to keep any sort of playful game going.

Tim flips them so he’s on top of Jason, his thighs boxing in Jason’s face.

Without complaint Jason moves Tim further up so he’s sitting with his hole firmly against Jason’s lips. He plants gentle kisses there and laps at the tender flesh. He blows a little which makes Tim shiver.

After eating him out for what feels like an eternity, Jason finally pins Tim again. He grips his hips and holds him still while he fishes lube from under the bed.

“Two tonight,” Tim says. His voice is a little breathy but he’s serious enough that Jason doesn’t protest at all.

“You been naughty, Babybird?” Jason teases.

“Get in me already,” Tim hisses, not even acknowledging Jason had spoken.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses. I’m going.” But Jason isn’t going. He’s laughing where he’s begun to warm the lube on his fingers. His pointer and middle fingers are dripping wet, leaving a damp spot on the sheets, but he can’t move them closer to Tim’s hole with the racks of happiness rippling through him.

“Why are you laughing?” Tim asks, chuckling a little too.

“It’s just, kinda ridiculous,” Jason replies.

“What is?”

“I mean … nevermind. We’ll fuck and then we can talk ok?”

Tim flips them a second time. Jason groans as his wrists are pressed into the bed.

“You know,” Tim snickers, “I’m a pretty skilled mutli-tasker.”

“I know,” Jason replies. “I’ve seen you in action. But this is something I’d rather not have a hard-on for, if that’s alright with you.”  
  


“Then you better right yourself quick because you aren’t fucking me until you spill.” Tim is mouthing along Jason neck.

“You fucker.” Jason pins Tim.

“Don’t call me a fucker, fucker.” Tim pins Jason.

They’re wrestling naked on the bed, arguing about who’s right for a whole minute before Tim puts a stop to it.

“Ok. Fine. You win,” he says, but he’s still on top. “Prep me.”

Without another word, Jason shoves his finger into Tim rather brutally. Tim lets out a sharp gasp, but falls into the sensation. Jason is rough. He’s tender too, though. It’s a soft kind of rough. It’s hard to explain and Tim only really knows that he loves it. So much.

“Boom,” Jason says triumphantly when he locates the bundle of nerves that has Tim shuttering and moaning at the same velocity.

“I r-really hate when you s-say that,” Tim chuckles.

“Then how would you know I found it?”

Tim laughs harder.

Jason takes his time opening Tim up. He wants to keep him in his bed as long as he can and he’s pretty big so he likes to be through.

“C’mon, Jay, I’m ready. You know I’m ready,” Tim whines.

“But it’s so fun to watch you.”

Tim reaches behind him and tugs Jason’s fingers out, using his other hand to grip Jason dick and give it a few pulls. He teases it against his entrance.

“I more interested in you participating,” Tim whispers, sinking a little so just the head is inside.

Jason sighs loudly, wrapping his arms snug around Tim’s waist. Smoothy for the last time, Jason flips them again. He keeps their chests together and thrust sharply into Tim. There’s a pause, Jason listening for discomfort and waiting for Tim’s shoulders to relax before continuing. He knows just what to do.

He knows that when he rolls his hips and thrust sporadically (in no particular pattern so Tim can’t figure him out) Tim will whine in the back of his throat. He knows that if he brings a hand up to his lips and licks before pinching Tim’s nipples he’ll cum in a second. He knows that if he shove those same fingers into Tim’s mouth they’ll get chewed up and maybe bleed and Jason’ll be able to get off on the memory of being buried like this all week (or until next time, whichever comes first). He knows that if he kisses Tim, tenderly, like he means it (and he does), that Tim will get so lost in the feeling Jason can empty inside of him and make him cum so hard he cries actually tears without him ever knowing. Jason doesn’t do that move often. He reserves it for when they both need a little extra something. When the nights are too long.

That’s how he finishes things tonight.

He starts on Tim’s jaw and Tim whimpers because he knows what’s coming. Jason always starts on the jaw. Then he’s catching Tim’s lips, nibbling a little at the soft pink flesh that is dripping with drool. Then he’s running his fingers through Tim’s hair. His thrust are slow and pointed. He’s hitting Tim’s prostate head on.

“F-fuuck! There, Jay, there!” Tim moans.

“I gotchu, baby, I gotchu,” Jason assures.

Tim is clawing at his shoulders, trying to get impossibly closer.

“I gotchu,” Jason repeats. Tim cums then.

Jason keeps going, speeding up his thrusts as Tim shudders in over-sensitivity. He has about thirty more seconds before he’s going to have to pull out, so he wants to make them count.

“Clench for me baby, c’mon. I know you’re still with me. Not all gone. C’mon clench,” Jason hums, his voice hitching.

Tim does as he’s told and Jason empties himself inside of him.

They’re both left panting sweaty messes. Jason is rolling off to the side and fitting his head into the dip of Tim’s arm. Tim reaches up and runs his palm against Jason’s dark locks.

“Good?” Jason asks, when he feels a bit more sure of his voice.

“S’ always good, but this … I don’t know Jay, this took the fucking cake,” Tim chuckles.

“You say that every time.”

“Because every time I say it you take it as a personal challenge.”

They both giggle. Jason likes that Tim can make him laugh.

“So,” Tim says. He moves his arm from under Jason’s head and rolls to his side. He and Jason are face to face. “Tell me. What’s going on?”

Jason sighs. He gives Tim this sad smile that makes Tim’s heart break into a million pieces, making him want to gather Jason up in his arm and assure him that he’s loved even if he thinks otherwise. The laughter in the room is gone now. There’s nothing between them but eerie silence.

“Jason?” Tim prompts, gently.

“I love you,” Jason says.

This time the silence is deafening.

Tim’s heart is out of his body, he’s sure. He can’t feel it beating and he can feel it beating too fast all at once. His palms sweat. He thinks maybe he’ll throw up.

“You don’t love me,” Tim replies. His voice is quiet and breathy, and Jason almost doesn’t hear him.

“I do.” Jason doesn’t miss a beat.

“You—you can’t. You don’t even know me. Not really.”

“I know that you like the cold,” Jason offers, with a genuine smile.

“That’s not enough,” Tim barks. He doesn’t mean to be harsh, but he isn’t sure what else to do.

“I know—” Jason has to take a deep breath. He closes his eyes and continues. “—I know that you like the cold so much that in the winter you leave the windows open, especially when it snows. You like the way it smells. I know that you’re favorite thing for breakfast is eggs and cinnamon toast, but only on Sundays and only when Alfred makes it for you. I know you sometimes think about your mom and wrinkle your brow, try to figure out if she would be proud of you from the little memories you have of her. I know you think of Bruce as a father, even though your dad is still alive. I know you think of running away sometimes too, but not to an island or somewhere tropical. Someplace like Seattle or Alaska. You want something to remind you of Gotham without the people. And I know … I know you love me too.”

_Tim_ doesn’t know these things. He thought he had been the only one studying, but, as it turned out, Jason had too.

“I do?” Tim asks.

“You do.”

“How do you know?”

Jason thinks for a second. Wonders how he can prove he knows. Then it comes to him.

“On October 9th, two years ago, I was laying on a rooftop just like the one I was on today,” Jason says.

Tim nods. “I remember.”

“You passed by with Dick on patrol, only you didn’t tell him you saw me. You doubled back later. You asked me … do you remember what you asked me?”

Tim shakes his head.

“You asked me if I wanted someone. And I think you meant right then, in that moment. I think you were asking if you needed to get Bruce or Dick or something, but I told you I wanted someone to stay. And you didn’t ask what I meant or need me to clarify. You laid down next to me. Held my hand. And we didn’t move. You looked after me. Not like Dick or Bruce or Cass or Steph. You … you cared for me, Tim. That’s how I know.”

Tim nods. He kisses Jason on the nose.

“You won’t leave, right?” Jason asks.

“I won’t leave,” Tim confirms.

They wrap up in each other’s arms. Tim knows that this isn’t the end, that Jason had been laying on the roof because the world got too much for him. That Jason only laid in the rain when it got really bad and he needed something to ground himself in reality. He knows that Jason hadn’t meant to confess to him tonight, that he probably had a plan or some big romantic gesture because that’s the kind of guy he was. He also knows that Jason is genuinely and hopelessly in love with Tim. He can deny it. He can say it’s not true. But Jason loves him.

Tim waits until Jason’s breaking evens out and he’s sure he’s asleep.

“I do. I love you, too.”

They both smile.


End file.
